Too Many Things about Clement Tsai: A friend whose life changed my own.

Today marks the five year anniversary of the death of a friend I met during my first year of college. He's someone I think of often, though not as much as I used to; he has significantly shaped the person I am right now (13. To find myself). Five years.

The first time a death hits you-- truly and uproariously hits you-- so close to your heart and mind that your whole being changes. The way you view life changes. The way you view yourself changes. Clement did that for me. Five years later, and I know without a doubt that I wanted to affect the people around me (19. To make others smile) the way Clement affected all of his friends and family.

12. To help others find themselves

One of the best friends I made in college also celebrates her birthday today. I always try to make it a point to greet her 'happy birthday' before I do anything else.  I met her first week of college and I grew with her all the way to graduation. She is healthy and beautiful and alive. Some of my friends lost that for themselves when we lost Clement five years ago, and it's every year this day that I'm reminded of how lucky we all are to have friends in our lives that we love. Celebration of life is one of the most important things we take for granted (but it's something that he never took for granted.)

Love you, Clem. Viva la vida.

-Christelle x

More things

• Before Clement died, he had a class assignment asking the questions (Christelle note: For the longest time I thought it was an assignment because why else would you do that?) read this article by Steve Pavlina "What would you feel about someone if they died? What would others feel about you if they died?". His family found his handwritten response (with his own personal starred statements) in his things after he'd passed. Here is proof of Clement's amazing soul:

• And before this blog entry gets too long, here's what I wrote for Clement and his book that his family and friends published for him. (8. To write a book.)

Someone Like You by Christelle Gonzales (2009)

I knew that I was getting to that age. That age… when life becomes real. And death becomes real, too. I didn’t know when my first real experience with death would happen; I dreaded it. Who would be this person that I would lose?

I can’t say that I was Clement’s close friend or that he was one of mine, but he was part of my life.

I must confess, the first time I met Clement (during welcome week at UCSD), I thought he was drunk. You seemed too happy, Clem. Now I understand that was just you.

He lived in the suite directly three floors above mine. Even with two stories between us, I could still hear his viola and his “singing” (“I USED TO RUUULE THE WORLD.”) My suite loved Clement. We often joked about his handsome, GQ face. I one time mentioned to the girls, “Has Clement ever winked at you?” All of us had giggled embarrassingly. Quite a skill, my friend.

Many times an abnormally loud, lengthy, and dirty burp would break the silence of my room at night. Unanimously, my two other roommates and I would say, “CLEMENT.” Surely enough, if we looked out of our second-floor window, he’d be standing outside next to the trashcan, smoking a cigarette, illuminated by the weird orange light of the lamppost he always stood underneath. My window provided a perfect frame for the scene; it’s an image I know by heart because of how regularly I’d witnessed it throughout the year. It is still impossible for me to come back to school and not picture all of the times I saw you standing there.

I would see Clement nearly every day. It wasn’t uncommon for him to walk into C-22 and eyeball the cheese fries that I was eating (I always let him have the rest.) A grin and a “Thanks Stelle,” usually followed. Sometimes, he’d be laying in Justin’s bed, and for a comfortable moment in time, it would just be everyone doing nothing at all. 

Most of my standout memories of Clement are simple: I once told a joke about a gay horse eating “heeeeeey”, and he cracked up for a minute straight. I gave him Photoshop (illegally) and taught him some editing techniques. I laid on the bed while the boys shouted “N00BS!” throughout hour-length games of DOTA. I teased him about his rash (“Jigga jigga, call a girl boshingles.”) making him laugh—that laugh--during a long car ride home.

My fondest and most painful memory to recall is one of just the two of us. It was seldom for us to be talking one-on-one without the connection of our other friends to bring us together… so when he came to find me when I was once alone and upset, I was surprised. But I welcomed his genuine concern. In that hour, we sat on the bed and talked about my thoughts and his thoughts. We talked about our friends. We talked about love. The strongest moment I remember is when Clement smiled at me and sweetly told me, “I really like talking to you.” It seems like such a small thing to be proud of, but I can still practically hear you tell me this and finally make me realize that you were my friend, too.

I think that was one of your special talents: making people feel like your friend. Sometimes after you’d gone, your name comes up in conversation with people that I didn’t know you knew, and they make me smile with their own personal memories of you. Those moments are bittersweet; it never fails to lift my heart to learn new ways you brightened the lives of strangers (and even non-strangers). People like you are inspiring—this I hope you also knew. Thank you for living as an example and showing others that life is good, because for the rest of my life, I want to make that one of my goals. I hope you know that your life affected me so much, in ways that I’m still dealing with now. And those things we talked about?  I still believe them. I still believe in love and goodness in people, and you’re one of the reasons why.

 11. To remind people that life is good, and to keep living